


Dream of Foxes.

by Bekbek



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Comatose Stiles Stilinski, F/M, Gen, M/M, Nogitsune Effects, dreamwalker!stiles, mute!Stiles
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-07-16
Updated: 2019-09-05
Packaged: 2020-06-29 15:36:34
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,839
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19833220
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bekbek/pseuds/Bekbek
Summary: They were all burning, and he was burning with them. The crackling of flames only drowned out by countless pained screams and howls. The screams were the humans, the howls the wolves that made up the majority of the pack. They had been targeted, he knew that much even though he didn’t know how or why. Just that everything he knew and loved were burning all around him, and there was no way for them to escape. Just that he was burning, the scent of his own meat shoving its way up a nose that had long since stopped working.Stiles ripped himself from the memory with a gasp.





	1. Chapter 1

They were all burning, and he was burning with them. The crackling of flames only drowned out by countless pained screams and howls. The screams were the humans, the howls the wolves that made up the majority of the pack. They had been targeted, he knew that much even though he didn’t know how or why. Just that everything he knew and loved were burning all around him, and there was no way for them to escape. Just that he was burning, the scent of his own meat shoving its way up a nose that had long since stopped working. 

He pounded on the mountain ash barrier again and again, taking out his fury on it. He could smell hunters, the scent of wolfsbane and metal that followed them everywhere. Just once he had gotten a glimpse of the hunter that tossed the first match, a fleeting look at the long blonde hair and eyes filled with ecstasy. Some intrinsic part of him knew that she enjoyed the screams of pain and loss coming from their encircled house. His strength finally faded, as left hand and second to the Alpha he was one of the strongest wolves, and one of the last to die. Distantly he could hear Talia’s roar of grief, even as his eyes slid closed and he was wrapped in the cold cloak of death. Then it all started again. 

```

Stiles Stilinski shot up from bed with a gasp, barely holding down his dinner from last night. He had been having the same dream every night for a week, every night since the Hale pack had been murdered in their home.  _ Stay away from the wolves little meikiko, they do not like the ones like us who do not bow our heads in the face of their teeth.  _ His mother's words, said to him the countless times he mentioned one of the wolves. But they fascinated him, with their flashing eyes and strange dreams. Most the time he loved to swim through their dreams, to feel the strength of running as a wolf, or feel the thrill of a full moon hunt. 

But there were only four Hales left. And of the four there had not been a single good dream in over a week. Even when he tried to change the dreams, to give them something good the smell of smoke and the brutal ache of loss followed. Most often he was sucked into the dreams of burning, and he felt every lick of pain even if the damage was not his own. He did not know which wolf dreamed so constantly, every time Stiles dozed off the burning wolf was there to spirit him away. He had taken to trying to stay awake as much as possible, even as it started to affect him. The circles under his eyes were steadily getting darker, and even his father had asked what was wrong. 

Stiles had lied, said it was nerves over starting the 7th grade, even as his stomach rolled over the smell of his dad grilling. Every now and then he fell into the dreams of one of the other wolves, even though they barely slept at all it seemed. The new alpha, she mostly dreamed of finding a faceless hunter and ripping their throat out. Stiles liked those dreams, the sense of justice they brought. Other times he was brought into dreams that tasted so heavily of guilt it felt like Stiles was drowning. Most rarely he found the youngest wolf left, he was pretty sure it was Cora, one half to the Hale Twins in his grade. Though he supposed that Rebecca had died in the fire too. 

He forced himself to crawl out of the safety of bed. He tiptoed down the hallway to the bathroom, doing his very best to not wake his father. His dad already had a hard time sleeping most nights, and since the fire he had been getting even less. He worked more and more hours trying to figure out how a whole family could die in one night with no one in the house escaping. Stiles didn’t know how to tell him that the fire wasn’t an accident. Ever since his mom died his dad had lashed out at any mention of the magic that lived in his sons soul. Claudia hadn’t been able to run through dreams like her son, she had been an Empath. The constant strain of feeling others deepest emotions had been what broke her in the end. 

Stiles made himself a glass of water from the bathroom sink. He didn’t bother to turn the light on, avoiding the fear written across his face and his own eyes. His mom had told him the first time she held him and saw those burning amber eyes she had laughed and laughed, so glad to see marks of the magic they would share. These days he could barely meet his own eyes, to much like the mother he lost. His dad barely met his eyes either, the sting of lost love still fresh even years later. The water was cool in his throat, such a contrast to the hot ash he had inhaled just moments ago. He needed more sleep, was desperate for it, but he was so afraid to try. He didn’t want to burn yet again, didn’t want to wake up choking on the taste of smoke. 

When he was younger his mom had used to make him a type of tea. It tasted awful, but it let him sleep in his own head instead of someone else's. He didn’t really remember how she made it, but all her ingredients had been left in the pantry, neither him or his dad ready to throw them out. He silently put the glass back in its spot, and began the long creep downstairs. He had to be as quiet as possible to avoid waking up his dad, avoiding all the spots that creaked on the stairs. In the kitchen he didn’t risk turning on the lights, just relying on the moonlight to read labels. He eased each lid on his mothers many teas open, sniffing to see if they were the one he wanted. When he did find it her squinted to read the faded label,  _ Moonlight Tea.  _ His mother's familiar scrawl making his eyes burn with tears.

He slid out of the pantry aiming for the tea maker when the lights flicked on around him. He squeaked in surprise, jumping and flailing making him drop the tea tin and spill its contents all over the floor. 

“And what did you think you were doing Stiles?” His dads sleep rough voice made him cringe. 

Stiles slowly turned around, taking in his dads red eyes and rumpled sweats. He’d thought he had been quiet enough, but the Sheriff was a notoriously light sleeper. 

“I was just trying to make some of Moms tea to help me sleep.” 

His dads eyes darted down to the spilled tea, Stiles could see the moment he registered which one it was. It was like his whole face became stone, hard and unforgiving. 

“You don’t need that shit, I don’t know why your mother made you think you did.” 

Stiles held in a flinch, and bit his tongue around the words he wanted to spit. He needed to be very careful about what he said, or his dad would just lash out again. 

“Even if it's just a placebo, it makes me feel better. Especially after nightmares.” he knew it was the wrong thing to say as soon as his dads lip pulled back from his teeth in a silent snarl. 

“Nightmares are no damn excuse for skulking around the house at midnight, waking me up for no reason.” 

He tried not to let the hurt show, even as guilt filled his belly. He shouldn’t have woke his dad up, he had been working so hard on the Hale case and barely sleeping as it was. But he couldn’t spend another night burning, waking up to smother his screams in his pillows. 

“Dad,” his voice broke around the word and he hated it, “Dad I’ve been dreaming of burning.” 

All the color drained from his dads face, but it still didn’t soften. Stiles knew what was coming before he even opened his mouth, and let his shoulders curl inwards. 

“You're too old to come crying about nightmares. Just- just go to sleep Stiles.” 

He nodded, ducking his head to avoid showing the burning in his eyes. Making his way back upstairs Stiles only paused and looked back once, to see his dad still frozen in place staring at the spilled tea leaves. He crawled back into bed and wrapped his covers all around himself. Exhaustion was biting at his heels, he couldn’t run away much longer.  _ Please, please just let me have a little good sleep.  _ He didn’t know what he prayed to, but he hoped it took pity anyway.

`` 

_ They were crowded around the table laughing into their whiskey, a successful hunt against one of the strongest packs on the west coast. Even Kate had loosened up, even if she would be leaving again later. She had found out one of the baby puppies had survived the fire, beyond the new alpha and her plaything. When they left the bar she would be going to tie up the loose ends, she just needed a valid alibi just in case. The thrill of a new hunt shone in her eyes, making her deadly beauty even more alluring. Every hunter with her was drawn to that beauty, and to the cruelty that danced in her smile.  _

_ When they finally stood up hours later Kate gave them a mocking salute. The rest of the group hooted and hollered, a few even giving half hearted howls as she made her way outside. The hunt would go well, after all how hard would it be to catch one tiny pup, she didn't even need backup. _

_ `` _

Stiles shot straight up with bile burning the back of his throat. That huntress, Kate, knew about Cora and was going to kill her. He glanced over at his alarm clock, it was 4 A.M. and he had no idea how long it had been since she left. He couldn’t tell his dad, the Sheriff had already proven how much he didn’t care about Stiles’ dreams. That just left him to try and save her. He knew from a few fragmented dreams that Cora was still close to the Hale house, he thought she might have been hiding in the trees. He grabbed his flashlight from under the bed and climbed out the window, hopping into the tree the way Scott had shown him. 

As soon as his feet hit the grass Stiles was running, not even caring about the sharp sticks stabbing at his bare skin. He had to hurry, he might even be to late but he had to try. The woods were dark, and kinda terrifying but he didn’t slow. After a long time of running he started to smell smoke, only then did he slow down and try to be quiet. 

“Cora? Cora can you hear me?” he hissed into the darkness, he knew wolves could hear things they shouldn’t, but he wasn’t sure how close she was. 

He kept tiptoeing around the preserve, every now and then giving a whisper. He wasn't sure how long it was before he heard a stick crack behind him and whirled to see a grinning Kate. fear clanged through him, because he could see her hand resting on a knife even as she slid closer. 

“Are you lost? These woods are dangerous at night.” she practically purred it and her voice made his skin crawl. 

He couldn’t let her find Cora, but he didn’t know what to do. Offering up silent apologies to his dad Stiles squared his shoulders and gave Kate his best glare. 

“I think it's you who is lost, these woods don’t belong to you and you should leave.” 

He smile shifted, no longer trying to hide the danger that lurked behind. She took a few steps closer and he did his very best to not start shaking. 

“Oh really? I knew at least one puppy had escaped, but I didn’t realize one of their human pets did too.” 

He read his own death in her eyes, and even as tears started to slide down his face he knew what he needed to do. So he turned on his heel and started sprinting, taking a big death to do so. 

“CORA RUN, SHE’S COMING FOR YOU.”  He screamed it just hoping the girl could hear. 

He didn’t make it very far before he felt a hand grab hold of his hair and wrench him backwards. He felt the cool metal of a knife against his throat and couldn’t help a whimper forcing its way past his bared teeth. 

“Oh I wish I could say you would regret that, but you won’t be living very long.” 

Then he was burning once again, but just in his throat. He dimly felt his body fall to the ground as he choked on bright copper. His vision faded as Kate Argent left the dying body of Stiles Stilinski crumpled in the leaves. 


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here we are! Short little chapter before I have to go to work. Yall's comments and kudos have kept me going, I dont think i can accurately say how thankful I am. I love yall, and hope you enjoy this.

John Stilinksi lost the love of his life barely three months before his 30’th birthday. It set him in a tailspin that nothing could break. Nothing until he got a call on Sunday at five in the morning. Even before he actually answered the phone he knew something was wrong, Jordan wouldn’t call if there wasn’t. Still, he answered the phone with only a little worry. When the device slipped through his suddenly numb fingers it was because raw terror had claimed his very being. John Stilinski lost the love of his life barely three months before his 30’th birthday, he lost his reason for continuing on a cold January morning three years later. 

When the Sheriff car goes flying through small town Beacon Hills at five in the morning, lights and sirens blaring people notice. When said Sheriff has to be held back by a deputy in the hospital lobby people start to whisper. When the Sheriff collapses to the ground, drowning in grief and rage people start to ask questions. When the People of Beacon Hills learn of what befell of the bright eyed boy that the whole town helped to raise they band together. They pool together their might, money, knowledge, and even magic and swear to find whoever would dare hurt one of their own. Beacon Hills is old, and possessive, it does not willingly release the ones who would give their life for its citizens. Deep in the forest that made the backbone of the city something awoke, it wrapped itself around a flickering soul and gave strength when there was no hope. So a little boy continued to breathe, his heart continued to beat, and Beacon swore its revenge. 

```

“Daddy?” 

There was nothing all around him. Just never ending white no matter where he turned. Even when he looked down he didn’t see his body, just white. Stiles tried to hold on to the fear, tried to be brave in the blank nothingness, but all he could think of was an empty hospital corridor. At the thought the nothingness  _ shifted,  _ becoming white tiles, white walls, white lights, the sterile nightmares all his own. A sob tried to force its way up his throat, and Stiles shoved his fists against his mouth. The smell of blood made itself known, but he still couldn’t see where it was coming from. A whimper made its way free and he collapsed to the ground, trying to pretend he was still curled up in his safe bed. 

He could almost see it, how his knees would cover his chest, how he would huddle underneath the blankets. Then he noticed, he could  _ feel  _ it. Like he had wrapped himself up and hid from the world. He cracked one eye open and then the other when he saw the familiar camo of his blanket covering him. He had a body again, and the blanket his dad had given him for christmas. So long as he didn’t look and the white walls to long he was ok. Stiles pushed himself to his feet again, keeping the blanket wrapped around his shoulders. His dad always said to stay still when he was lost, but the hallway looked like it was completely straight with no other offshoots. He could at least try to find the end, and figure out what was going on. 

He walked, on and on and on, but it never seemed like he was getting anywhere. He had tried to count his steps and after he got to a thousand three times he stopped. There was no sound except the quiet swish of his steps, Stiles had tried humming but it made his throat hurt and he stopped again. He wished he wasn’t alone, that someone walked at his side even if it was just his own shadow. He wanted his dad, or deputy Jordan, or even Ms. Mccall. If Scott were with him they could make jokes and talk, but more than anything he wanted his Mom. He wanted her to hold his hand, to wrap him up in a hug, to whisper about their magic in the Polish she had grown up with. 

Yet there was nothing but him, wrapped in his blanket, walking through the emptiness. He had never felt anything like it. Stiles might not be an empath like his Mother, but he could feel the dreams of people even when they were awake. He was used to being surrounded by the energies of humanity wrapping around him like a second skin, not the silence that seemed to echo through his bones. And so he walked, padding through the empty white hall until exhaustion pulled him to his knees. He sat there for a while, until he could force himself to his feet and keep pushing forwards. 

He must have been walking for hours, but the hall still continued farther than he could see with no change. He wasn’t hungry, or thirsty, but a strange sort of tiredness had filled him. It wasn’t the kind of sleepy that came from not sleeping, or after a long day of playing in the preserve with Scott, or even the numb exhaustion that came after his Moms funeral. It felt like he  _ had  _ to sleep, but he continued to walk and did his best to ignore the feeling. He really did not want to know what would happen if he slept in the empty hallway. Hours and hours later he fell again, but no matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t get up. Stiles lay out in the middle of the way, tracing the lines of the tiles until his eyes finally slid closed. 

```

_ The sounds of crickets chirping greeted him upon waking. He was laying on the muddy ground of the Preserve. Stiles sat up and brushed the leaves and gunk that clung to his front off. It smelled weird, but in the dim moonlight he couldn’t see anything besides the dark smears that smelled like wet pennies. He tried to call out, but all that made its way out of his throat was a wet gurgle. He brought a hand up to his neck, and felt a hole where there shouldn’t be one. He traced the long line that carved through his skin, from underneath one ear to his collarbone on the other side. Distantly he knew he should be panicking, but he couldn’t find the feeling.  _

_ Stiles wiped the bloody mud away from his throat and looked around the small clearing he stood in. He recognized it of course, he was where Kate Argent had finally caught up to him. He turned in a circle, trying to figure out what was going on. It felt like there was something tied to his sternum, pulling him in a certain way. Stiles followed the pull, making his way through the forest as silent as a ghost. He walked under the watching moon, nothing more than a blood covered slip of a spirit. Finally he reached a massive clearing, nothing in it besides an old giant stump.  _

_ Stiles moved towards the stump, the pull in his chest getting ever stronger. He clambered up the side of the stump, yelping aloud at the burning ice of its surface. He crawled to the center and sat cross legged, finally feeling like he was where he was supposed to be. He ran his fingers back and forth across the wood grain, the texture rolling like sand under his skin. He waited for something, but for once the anxiety that usually filled him had been drained away. Sitting on the stump stiles felt like everything was draining away, his fear, worry, pain, everything. He felt like he could just lay down and sleep forever, but sheer stubborn grit kept him awake.  _

_ He was in that drifting place between sleep and waking that whatever he was waiting for finally happened. A shape created of Shadow and Dreams slowly took form as a large grey Fox. Stiles peeled his eyes open to stare at her, and she looked back. Some part of him recognized her, in the way that all Magic knows itself and each other.  _

_ “Hello Mekiko.” She spoke with his mother's voice. _

_ Stiles made a wordless noise of pain and leaned forwards. He knew it wasn’t his Mom, but even the sound of her voice was a comfort. The way her accent twisted his name into something special and made just for him. He tried to speak, but he still couldn’t manage around the gaping smile in his throat.  _

_ “Hush now, you will just hurt yourself.”  _

_ The Fox stood and came to press against Stiles’ front. He ran his fingers down her silky back, brushed across her tail. Her tail split, becoming Five and wrapping around him like the best blanket. Stiles couldn’t help a rough sob, curling further into her gentle embrace.  _

_ “You may call me Seishin, I am here to offer you a gift if you wish to accept it.”  _

_ Seishin pulled away to look Stiles in the eyes. He could only make eye contact for a second before the energy within her made his head begin to pound. To him she was like lightning given a barely mortal form, and her eyes showed the full might of her. Humans simply were not meant to observe such magics without losing their minds. He dropped his eyes and Shishen used her nose to lift his chin and force him to look in her eyes even when he started to feel blood drip from his nose.  _

_ “I am a Kitsune, the Fox of Spirit. I am old, and powerful, Beacon has been my home for many many years, and I have seen many magical folk come and go. I have watched over the Wolves that made my forests their home, and loved them. I have kept an eye on the humans that laughed and cried under my care. And I have watched you. A little human with the heart of a Wolf, with the magic of your blood, with the fire of a Human, with the heart of a Fox. You are nothing more than a Kit but you did your best to help every soul that came across your path, whether you knew them or not.”  _

_ Seishin paused to lick the dripping blood off his chin before she continued.  _

_ “I watched you give your life to help a Wolf Cub who had already lost everything. Yes, I am old and powerful but I could only watch and do nothing. Unlike my brothers and sister I have never taken the form of a human, found myself a body to truly touch the world with. For the first time in my long long life I wish I had. It is too late for that now, but it is not too late for me to help you. So I offer you a choice Mekiko Stilinski.”  _

_ Seishin pulled fully away, her tails fanning behind her and the raw power that made her being crackling through the air. She was a Storm, barely contained in the terrible shape of an ever watching fox. Stiles fought every instinct telling him to run, he knew he needed to listen and consider her words very carefully. His mother had told him tales of the Foxes, and when to trust their clever words.  _

_ “I can give you strength, I can keep you alive while your body changes. I can bind your mortal soul to my own and give you the second chance you deserve. But I will warn you, it will change you in ways that even I do not know. You would no longer be what you are, you would be a Fox with the heart of a human. I am not even sure if it would work and you would heal, you were so close to death it was only the might of Beacon Hills that kept you from fading before help could come.”  _

_ Stiles cocked his head as he considered her offer. His first thought was to immediately agree, anything to get back to his dad and his life.  _ Dad. He has to be so terrified, he can’t lose me too.  _ But to be so changed, if even Seishin wasn’t sure if it would work then there was the chance he could actually die. Or even if he didn’t, there was no telling what he would wake up as, Or if he would wake up at all. And if he did wake up, how would being changed affect his magic. He did not want to lose that part of his mother. Stiles traced the slice carved deep in his throat, he still couldn’t muster up horror about the wound, maybe due to the Fox.  _

_ His mother had told him that Fox spirits ate emotions and left people as empty shells of themselves. But that had been late in her sickness, when she lashed out at him and thought her son a monster. Seishin did not seem like the kind of being that would leave helpless humans to their doom. He tugged on his magic, coaxing it to the surface the way his Mom taught him and hoped Seishin understood the question.  _

_ “Yes. Kitsune are adept at the art of dreamwalking, combined with your own innate skills I would imagine you would grow even stronger. Maybe able to change dreams at your own will instead of simple being a bystander.”  _

_ Stiles considered for another moment, he already knew his answer but he wanted be sure first. It was easy, so long as he had the chance nothing would tear him away from his father. From the last person of his family. He looked up at Seishin, he hoped she could see how serious he was when he nodded.  _

_ “Brave choice Kit. Brace yourself, I don’t imagine this is going to be pleasant.”  _

_ Stiles took a deep breath and Seishin stopped holding onto her power. She let it explode from her like a newborn star, crashing through Stiles like a nuclear bomb. He thought he might have been screaming, but he could hear nothing over the sound of a heat that had stopped, resume its pace.  _

_ ``` _

Deep in the Preserve of Beacon Hills an ancient being closed her eyes and gave everything of herself to the small human knelt before her. Seishin had been alive for centuries but never ascended to her Nine Tailed form to cross the stars with her siblings. And as she poured every ounce of her spirit into the Kit she knew she never would. She opened her eyes one final time, gazed at the boy accepting her magic with his head thrown back. His eyes already glowed Fox orange, and she just knew that one day he would be magnificent. Seishin Fox of Spirit smiled, and then she faded from life. 

```

  
John Stilinski had only gotten up from the seat beside his sons hospital bed to shower and use the restroom. It had already been a week and nothing had changed, his little boy was lost in a coma. When the machines started trilling he almost didn’t realize, so lost in grief it didn’t register until Melissa McCall busted in already shouting. Jordan was hot on her heels, dragging a numb John away as the doctors swarmed the small broken body. He just listened to the drone of a flat-line and prayed for somebody,  _ anybody,  _ to not take his little boy away. Sudden peace filled him, and John knew with certainty that his boy would be fine. It might take time, and it would be a hard fight, but he would wake up again.  _ His little boy would wake up again _


End file.
